now im somewhere far away from where i started with no point of return.
Killing oneself is, anyway, a misnomer. We don’t kill ourselves. We are simply defeated by the long, hard struggle to stay alive. When somebody dies after a long illness, people are apt to say, with a note of approval, “He fought so hard.” And they are inclined to think, about a suicide, that no fight was involved, that somebody simply gave up. This is quite wrong. — Sally Brampton, Shoot the Damn Dog: A Memoir of Depression. ———————— The part I hate most about mornings is the blisters. I take a shot glass. 1, 2 3, 4, … 10, 11, 12! It’s time to pop. There is no joy to exclaim. Just hope that it helps with the pain. But it is so hard to swallow everything one at a time. It’s beyond a mouthful to try and take in everything at once. The next part I hate about mornings is having to make sure I’m full. I stuff myself with what I used to love — food. If I don’t ensure that, the ramifications are heavy. On good days, I allow myself a good nap even though I hardly even need one. On bad d
